Designed for Hate, Destined to Marry
by SophiaOfSlytherin
Summary: Dramione. Probably going to be about six chapters. No Voldemort. Harry's not famous. L&J died in a car crash and Harry grew up with Sirius. Luna's same age as the "golden trio". AU. AU, AU, AU, AU.
1. Up to First Years

**A/N: I don't support Dramione, I just had a good storyline pop into my head. As you can tell, it's AU. Note: J.K. never told us the names of a certain someone's parents, so I might end up making 'em up. :D**

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING except teh plot. Even that, though, I don't have copyrighted.**

Two hooded figures snuck in the back of the Hogs Head late on the night of June third, 1980. Sitting at the table they had agreed on previously was a tall man with straight, brown hair and a woman with bushy, dirty-blonde hair. The two with hoods revealed themselves; one was a man, the other a woman. Both had hair such a light shade of blonde it was mistakeable for pure white. Nervously, the tall brown-haired man sipped from his glass. Usually, he'd have had an alchoholic beverage, as it was a bar, but tonight, he said he needed coffee, so coffee had been served. The woman with him had asked for hot tea, and so she received. When the Hogs Head's scruffy owner came around once more to ask what the two blondes wanted, the woman said she'd take wine, and the man motioned him away, not wanting anything. He tapped his fingers impatiently.

"Well?" said blonde woman, equally anxious, but much calmer. She placed her hand over the man she'd arrived with's hand to help him stop tapping.

"As we're all here," the brown-haired man began, "We may begin discussing our problem." The two blondes glanced at each other.

"What my husband means," said the woman next to the brown-haired man, "Is that we may begin to find a solution to our... situation, if you will."

"Ah, yes," said the blonde woman, and the man crossed his arms.

"Well, you have an infant son, yes?" the brown-haired man asked as the blonde woman's drink was brought to them.

"We have," the blonde man nodded, "What about him interests you?"

"You see," said the wife of the man whose hair was brown, "We've an infant girl, and she's... different than all else we know."

"Ah," said the blonde woman again. "Our boy's different, as well. What do you suppose we do about this?"

"Perhaps an arranged marriage?" the blonde man said.

"It worked perfectly for us," his wife agreed.

"A-arranged?" the taller man choked.

"That's what she said, dear. I don't suppose it's a bad idea."

"Arranged...?" he said again.

"Our boy is going to be a very good little boy," said the blonde woman confidentally, "He will need someone to be an equal partner. The other children just won't understand him."

"Yes," agreed the other woman, "Our daughter is the same. And it will save them the trouble of dating. A horrible time, dating is."

"Then, is it settled?" asked the blonde man, holding his hand to the other.

"I don't kn-.." began the brown-haired man, but his wife cut him off.

"It's settled," she smiled, shaking the blonde man's large hand with her own small, delicate one. "It's wonderful to have friends like you."

"Perhaps we should write this down," the blonde woman suggested, raising her wand. Paper appeared out of seemingly no where, and a quillpen appeared, as well. The four adults signed. Each signed in blood.

What the blondes didn't know was that their friends were muggles.

*****

"Mum, can we hurry please?!" urged an eleven-year-old girl with bushy brown hair. "I don't want to miss the train!"

"I'm still packing your books into your bag, dear!" replied her mother. Her dirty-blonde hair was a big grayer in some places, but she was still beautiful, none-the-less.

"Daddy, help Mum so she can finish sooner please!" the girl begged.

"All right, dear!" her father laughed, "I'll try!" His hair retained none of its original brown color that was so apparant eleven years ago.

"All done!" exclaimed the mother, wiping a drop of sweat from her brow. "Now, we can go."

"Wonderful!" the girl exclaimed, jumping up and clapping.

"All in the car, now," her father said, motioning towards the door and guiding his ladies to their vehicle as if they had never made the trip before.

*****

"Mother!" whined an eleven-year-old blonde boy. "I want to go now!"

"Dear, we'll go in just a moment," his mother cooed. Her hair was the same shade of blonde, the shade her son shared. She had a fair number of wrinkles.

"Father!" the boy barked, "Let's go now!"

"We are going when I say so!" his father yelled back. The handsome blonde man who had once existed was gone now, and his hair was considerably longer.

"Yes, Father," said the boy, staring at his own feet.

"Oh, don't be so hard on him!" his mother defended. "Honestly!"

"Yes, Dear," said the man, glancing at his feet, as well.

"Now, let's go," she instructed. "Grab his hand, dear, we're apparating." The man did so, and in a moment, all three were gone.

*****

"Ahh, it's the Grangers!" exclaimed the blonde boy's mother once they had arrived. It took the girl's family longer to arrive because they drove. After all, none of that family could do magic but the girl.

"Narcissa, Darling!" said the girl's mother, embracing the boy's mother. The two fathers shook hands and grinned. The girl and boy glared. Instantly, they hated each other.

"Dear, let me introduce you," fussed the boy's mother, Narcissa. She spoke to the girl directly "This is my son, Draco."

"I'm Hermione," said the girl. She didn't trust this boy, but if her parents did, she'd risk it.

"I've never heard that name before.." the boy, Draco, pointed out.

"Oh, it's from Shakespeare," Hermione shrugged. "Practically no one's heard it before."

"Shakespeare?" Draco asked.

"That's muggle reading!" his father shouted, then looked pointedly at the girls father, "You had your daughter read muggle books?"

"Of course!" the man chuckled. "Why wouldn't we? After all, she's muggleborn!"

"You're... what?!" Narcissa gasped, and nearly fainted.

"Yes," Hermione's mother laughed, "All these years and you didn't know?"

The blonde family shared a horrified expression. "We certainly did not!" said the father.

Narcissa broke into sobs. "B-but we signed in blood! We signed with filthly blood!"

"Excuse me," said Hermione, tugging lightly on Narcissa's coat. She spoke so soon that no one else had a chance to speak, "But we aren't filthy. And please don't cry."

"Do not touch me!" Narcissa shrieked, ripping the edge of her coat away from Hermione, who nearly burst into tears herself. But she was strong. She'd always been strong.

"Do not yell at my daughter!" shouted Hermione's mother.

"Do not tell my wife what to do!" barked the blonde father.

"Do not shout at my wife!" said her father.

"Granger!" the blonde man spat, to which Hermione's father replied, "Malfoy!" as if their last names were insults in themselves. They glared intensely until Hermione pulled her fathers coat to get him away. Draco just glared at Hermione, and, having the most un-Hermoine-like impulse, she stuck her tongue out at him. He looked thoroughly disgusted and mouthed, "I'll get you."  
*****


	2. Sorting and the Seer

Draco and Hermione glared at each other when they were boarding the train. Draco even shoved her out of the way. When she fell, a kind, red-haired woman standing with a red-haired man and their young daughter, too young for school, helped her up and into the train. She liked those three. On board, Draco was even worse. He tormented her, doing as his father had by using her last name as an insult. "Granger!" She didn't care, that wasn't bad. What was bad was when he stole all the money from her pocket. Every last knut, sickle, and galleon had been knicked. She wondered how he did it, but then remembered they were all magic here.

Hermione spend much of the train ride alone, until, about half way there, Draco came and sat in her compartment. He sat acrossed from her, but didn't look at her. Instead, he glanced out the window, pretending not to notice her.

"You know," she said, "You're quite rude. You come sit in my compartment, but don't even say hello."

Draco pretended he couldn't hear her.

"What a strange boy you are!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I'm not strange!" he snapped, turning his head to face her. "You're the strange little..!" he cut himself off, not wanting to say what he was thinking.

"I'm not strange, actually," she said calmly, "You're strange. You've got such light blonde hair that I'm quite sure you and your parents must have dyed it."

"It's natural!" he hissed. "At least our hair isn't so dreadfully bushy!"

"I quite like my hair," Hermione replied, pushing it out of in front of her eyes.

"How do you like your teeth? Draco asked bitterly, "Such large things!"

"They aren't that big!" she said, though she didn't believing her own words. "My parents are dentists."

"Do I care?" he asked coldly.

They let the rest of the ride pass in silence.

*****

After the awkwardly quiet train ride, the students were all herded off. Hermione was pretty sure she heard someone moo. A large man greeted them, and told the first years that they would ride across the murky lake in boats. She thought he spoke oddly, and didn't sound very educated. But then again, she reminded herself, she wouldn't return to muggle life until she graduated from Hogwarts, so she'd been going on with a fifth grade education. A terrible idea floated into her head: did that mean no college? She shuttered at the thought.

It was Hermione's rotten luck that she had to share a small boat with Draco. She considered pushing him out of the boat. When he attempted to use the idea on her, she flipped him and sent him flying into the water. Hermione reasoned with herself that she wouldn't be in trouble, as it was self-defence. Plus, she enjoyed the remainder of the ride much more than the beginning.

Once the boats docked and all the children got off, they were led to meet a Professor MgGonagall. She was a kind, older lady with a stern look to her. Hermione liked Professor MgGonagall instantly, and she thought she would be the perfect person to come to, should she have a problem. MgGonagall led them into a large hall packed with children between the ages of twelve and seventeen. Most of the muggleborn students, and a boy called Harry Potter, stared at the ceiling in awe.

"It's a bewitched ceiling," Hermione said confidently, "I read about it in 'Hogwarts, A History."

"Know-It-All little scum.." Draco muttered as the line of eleven-year-olds came to a hault. Briefly afterwards, the sorting began.

The children were to be sent to four different "houses", Hermione had read. Gryffindor, the brave. Ravenclaw, the smart. Hufflepuff, the loyal. Slytherin, the ambitious. Though, Slytherin was famous for much more than ambition. All bad wizards came from Slytherin. She knew she wouldn't be a Slytherin, though, so she wasn't nervous; muggleborns weren't Slytherins. As it began with a girl called, "Abbot, Hannah," Hermione crossed her fingers. She wanted to be a Ravenclaw. Gryffindor or Hufflepuff were acceptable, but she wanted everyone to know how clever she was.

Not long after, Professor MgGonagall called, "Granger, Hermione!" Some children snickered at her name as she went up. These children, she assumed, were the halfblood children who took after their pureblooded side. The purebloods didn't recognize the name Hermione to be funny. It came from Shakespeare. Purebloods didn't know Shakespeare.

Hermione sat down and let MgGonagall place the large talking hat upon her head. It was too big for her small head, but it did its best to stay on.

"Hmmm.." it said, and Hermione nearly jumped. She hadn't noticed it spoke, too! "Yes... Wow! Is than an I.Q. or the Minister's paycheck!? Quite a clever child sits beneath me... But yet I'm not quite sure Ravenclaw would fit you well enough.. True, smart, they are, but many are snobbish.." The Hat whispered that last sentence before continueing, "And loyal, yes, loyal until the end, so why not Hufflepuff? And, Merlin's pants, the ambition! Slytherin would be risky for a girl like you... No, I think I see the answer as clear as the nose on my face. Wait a moment, I have no nose. In any case, GRYFFINDOR!"

MgGonagall lifted the hat up and Hermione walked down to the correct table and sat by a red-haired boy with a shiney badge who congratulated her. She sat down in a haze, not quite sure whether or not she had really just had her mind read by a hat.

"..but welcome to Gryffindor, either way. We'll try to make you feel at home," the boy concluded. "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask me. I'm Percival Weasley, to let you know."

"Thank you, Percival," Hermione said, though she wasn't quite listening.

"You're very welcome. And call me Percy," he smiled, "Oh, but let's be quiet now. The Malfoy boy is up. His father knows my father, you know. Never got along. Not even in their own school years."

The hat barely brushed his head as it cried, "SLYTHERIN!" With a smirk, Draco bounced off to Slytherin table.

A moment later, the Harry Potter boy was called. The hat took a while before it bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Two red-haired boys, obviously twins, who sat as far as possible from Percy, chanted, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Not too terribly long after, Percy again hushed his conversation with Hermione. "My little brother," he explained. Another red-haired child, this one dreadfully nervous looking, stepped up as MgGonagall cried, "Weasley, Ronald!"

"Ah!" the Hat exclaimed, and the boy nearly fainted, "Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you!" It laughed evilly.

The boy's eyes started to roll up into his head, until the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" at which the boy sighed with relief and joined his family at his rightful place.

*****

"Draco, dear," said Narcissa to her son. He had come home for the weekend even though school was nearly out, and sixth year nearly over. "Come here, please."

"In a minute, Mum!" Draco called.

"Go to your mother, now!" Lucius commanded at his boy, and Draco jetted over to his mother.

"Yes, Mum?"

Narcissa lowered her head. "I'm afraid we need to tell you something, honey. You see, when you were young..."

"Narcissa, don't tell him about it!" his father hissed, "We'll find him a way out of it!"

"There is no way out!" Narcissa shot back, tears dripping down her cheek, "We signed in blood!"

"As did the Muggle scum!" Lucius spat.

"That's why it's legally binding!" She shrieked, then turned to Draco, calmer. "Dear, we made a terrible mistake, but when you were young, we had you betrothed.."

"As in engaged!?" Draco exclaimed.

"Yes, Dear, I'm so sorry," Narcissa said solonmly, "You know that Mudbl-... Muggleborn girl, Hermione Granger?"

"The Mudblood?" Draco scowled, "Unfortunately so."

"Sh-she's your betrothal."

"What?!" Draco was outraged. "How could you do such a thing?! We'll ruin our family tree!"

"I'm so sorry!" Narcissa sobbed, "We kn-knew her parents b-but we didn't know they were muggles! We a-always saw them around H-Hogsmeade and j-just assumed..!"

Draco grew quiet and sat in a silent meditation.

*****

She enjoyed school. She had always enjoyed school. She'd loved it since the day she'd been sorted. Of course, that was years ago now, and Hermione was once again on the train, riding to Hogwarts as she began her seventh year. Her shiney head girl badge glistened as the sun came through the window and bounced off of it. She adjusted it and tucked her hair behind her ear. She was sitting with the friends she made through the years. Luna Lovegood, a seventh-year Ravenclaw with whom she spent a lot of time, Ginny Weasley, Percy and Ron's little sister, who was starting her sixth year. The group of four was completed by Draco, who just wouldn't leave Hermione alone. Ginny glared mostly at him, but at Hermione, too, because she didn't shoo him away, and actually told him he could sit by her.

It was quiet in this compartment. Every year since third year had these three girls laughed the entire ride. Second year was a bit more awkward for Ginny, but she still had sat with them and listened to Hermione and Luna laugh.

It was too quiet. The only sound was the noise the train made as it drove down the tracks, but that was a sound all on board except the first-year students were used to.

Draco had been acting weird. For one thing, he had broken off with his girlfriend since fourth year, Pansy Parkinson, at the end of last year without any explaination what-so-ever. Also, he had stopped calling Hermione a Mudblood so frequently. As he'd been doing so since second-year, this was a large shock to everyone, including his own parents. Another change was that he'd dyed his hair. No longer did he have such light blonde hair. It was still blonde, but it was a more natural looking shade. Hermione thought this new hair looked quite attractive, but shook this thought from her mind. She hated Draco with a vengence, though Luna could never see why.

"He's confused, is all," Luna would say, "I bet he's got a desperate fear somewhere. Maybe he's terrified of muggles, so he takes it out as aggression." Luna always tried to find the best in everyone.

Currently, the silence had been broken by Luna rattling about pudding or something else she usually talked about.

"...And then you know what happened?!" she laughed before it was even funny and glanced at Draco, searching for the answer, "The pudding blew up! Right there, out of no where! I bet it was the nargles. They always take my stuff! They even took my shoes one da-.."

"Would you please shut your mouth!?" Draco finally snapped, "You need to close your mouth and stop talking! Really! I cannot take the ignorance pouring out any longer!"

For a moment, Luna looked as if she was about to cry. Then she tilted her head, smiled, and replied, "Kay!"

Draco pushed his face into his palm. Ginny laughed at his stressing situation. Hermione stared off into space, her eyes blank and glazed and her expression emotionless.

*****

Luna waved her hand in front of Hermione's face, but got no response. Ginny shook her, but nothing happened. Draco did nothing but watch, slightly horrified. Hermione began to speak, and though her lips did not match the words, it was clear it came from her throat. The voice she spoke in sounded raspy and coarse. It hardly sounded like her at all. Hermione spoke in rhyme.

"Misery shall befall all those who seek out of their destiny This shall not be for those who accept it willingly Destiny can not be changed Nothing can be re-arranged.  
Avoid a fate so dreadully scary Designed for hate, destined to marry."

Hermione's eyes grew large and colored again. Tears whelled up in them, though she knew not why. She blinked them away and asked, "Why are you three staring at me?"

"Hermione, you just went all loony for a minute!" Ginny exclaimed, "Loonier than Luna!"

"It's true!" Luna added, then looked at Ginny. "Hey!"

Ginny shrugged, then went on. "You said 'destiny cannot be changed' or something like that. And your eyes... Something's not right!"

"She's obviously a Seer," Draco said lowly. He hadn't spoken a word since his outburst at Luna, but it wasn't because he was regretful. He simply had nothing to say. A lump had appeared in his throat as Hermione had spoken, and he was doing his best to keep calm. Seemingly, he understood.

"Dra-.." Hermione began, but quickly changed her word, "Malfoy. You seem to know something. What's going on? What was I talking about?"

"You don't know yet?" Draco smirked. "Well, who am I to tell you something your parents should've told you ages ago, as mine did?"

"What on Earth would your parents tell you that Hermione's would tell her?" Luna asked.

"Perhaps he's speaking of their womanly problems?" Ginny added, laughing at her own joke, "As Draco's no man, I'm sure he's gotten a woman's issue?"

"Shut your mouth, Weasley!" Draco snapped, then turned back to Hermione. "Of course, they'll tell you soon enough. Be sure you look pretty by then, Granger, just be sure you look pretty." Without a further word, Draco left the compartment.

After a few moments of silence, Luna spoke:

"...Well, that was odd."  
*****


	3. The Forced BreakUp

Almost instantly as the train pulled up to Hogwarts that afternoon, Hermione took off to write an letter to her parents. What Draco said, what she had said herself, had shaken her up. Destiny cannot be changed? Designed for hate, destined to marry? What was all of this nonsense not only Draco but she herself had spoken? She scribbled down the note quickly, ran up to the owlery and sent it off. She paced around for the next few hours, just waiting for a response. Soon enough, it came, from her mother. She ripped it open and read.

Dearest Daughter,  
How can we ever begin to explain what has been going on in your life? Hermione, love, your father and I, dreadfully, betrothed you around the time of your birth. Darling, we were scared, terrified, of you not fitting in or finding love and the boy's parents felt the same way at the time. But, there is one problem. (One problem? Hermione thought) The parents were our friends, yes, but they knew little about us, and we knew about the same of them. They were unaware we are muggles, that you are muggleborn. We knew nothing of their pureblood status. And so... we betrothed you to Draco Malfoy. We deeply, deeply apologize. There is no way we could ever make it up to you, but please, dear, we hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us sometime, somehow.  
Love, Mum.

The letter, envelope and all, slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor with a louder-than-expected crash. With life in a haze, she bent over and picked up the letter and a necklace that had fallen out of the envelope. The necklace was a silver, heart-shaped locket. A note was taped to it, reading "To our little girl. We were saving this for your wedding day, but we thought you should have it now." Hermione clasped the necklace around her neck, stuffed the letter into her pocket, and left, leaving the envelope on the floor. Seconds later, Draco came into the owlery and found the envelope. He picked it up and tucked it in his jacket pocket. Anything with his fiancee's name on it would be treasured and kept, even if he truly hated the girl with a passion as he did.

Hermione was upset. How could her parents do this to her? Did they hate her? Were they trying to ruin her life? _Stop thinking that_, she thought. _Quit acting like an average teenager, you're better than that. Your parents love you. Don't pretend you're like everyone else anymore. You are Hermione Granger, muggleborn witch, the brightest of your year._ Hermione, braving her misfortune, decided to hold her head high and, daresay it, accept her future, as unpromising as it was.

The events at the very beginning of Hermione's seventh year changed her. Against her own will, she began to question everything she knew. What was hate? What was love? Who decided these things? Who drew that "fine line" between love and hate? What if they were the same? For a while she convinced herself all that she knew was truth, but eventually her mind lied to her, telling her these things were all lies. As she began to truly ponder what love and hate were, questions swam through her mind, taking her in endless circles of doubt and disbelief. The whole experience made her head ache.

And she was mad. She was angry with her parents for thinking she would be unable to find a boy she fancied on her own. She had, in fact, done so; she was currently dating a boy named Ronald Weasley, Ginny's older brother. She and Ron had been friends since their first year, and she'd been fancying him about as long. Last year, around Christmas break, he'd finally gotten up the nerve to confess he had mutual feelings. If he had asked, she'd have married him on the spot. And now, being engaged, she could do no such thing! She felt treacherous; she had a boyfriend and a fiancee! What kind of girl could do such things? And how could she tell Ron? Just say, "my apologizes, but, as it happens, I am betrothed"? She felt so guilty. What would that do to his heart, or even to her own?

At this exact moment, she hated Draco Malfoy, not for anything he'd done to her or her friends, but just for being born. The scorching hatred she felt towards him was as powerful as raging passion. Passion, however, was only an appropriate word when used in the correct context, such as how she hated him with a burning passion. She began to think love and hate were similar, if not the same, but this almost completely shook the thought from her mind. She hated Draco far too much to ever feel anything even remotely comparable to love.

Draco had a similar reaction, but, by now, his anger had all dried up like an ancient river, finally giving up. He'd already accepted this cruel reality and even began to embrace it. In fact, to a Slytherin mate, he had referred to Hermione as "my person mudblood." Ron Weasley, who happened to be walking by and overhearing the conversation, puched Draco on the spot. Draco meerly smirked, got back up, dusted himself off, and turned to walk away. Then, in the time it took to blink, he spun back around and slugged Ron back. A full-out brawl commenced after that.

Shortly after, Ron, bruised and blood-covered, found Hermione. He dashed over to her as she gasped in shock from his appearance. As did Ginny and her other friend, Harry Potter, with whom she had been conversing. Luna, also at the scene, simply stated, "You're bleeding, Ron."

"I bloody well know that!" Ron fumed. Ginny turned to Harry and mouthed, "literally," at which Harry stifled a laugh. Smoke came out of Ron's ears, he was so angry. In fact, he was so outraged that it was scaring Hermione a little; she'd never seen him like this. His ears were red, which they had been before, but usually only in embarrassment. His eyebrows were narrowed at the center with rage.

Hermione sighed. "What did you do to yourself, Ronald?" she asked with deep concern filling her eyes. She really did love him infinately, which made it all the more saddening that she was betrothed.

"What did I do to myself?!" Ron gasped, as if he had expected her to instantly jump the the conclusion, the correct conclusion, that it had been Draco's doing, "More like what did Malfoy to do me!" Hermione lost her breath; she wasn't expecting his name, a name that was supposed to be her name soon, to be mentioned in the conversation.

"That slime-ball did this to you?!" Harry said, his temper rising to a level that nearly surpassed Ron's. That might have been strange for anyone else, but, then again, Harry had a nasty temper, especially when it came to the likes of Malfoys. "And what crime was this punishment for?! As twisted as they are, Malfoy usually has his reasons."

"Reasons that only make sense in his own mind," Ginny added in agreement. She put one hand on her side and the other around her brother's shoulder. "So, what'd he say you did, Ron?"

"Well, I punched him first," Ron confessed. When a startled look made itself present on Hermione's face, he hurriedly continued. "But I didn't do it for no reason! He was talking badly about Hermione, and, well, he practically asked me for it!"

"He was?" Hermione asked, surprised that Draco, who obviously knew they were supposedly betrothed, would be gossiping about his own fiancee. "What was he saying?" Usually, they heard Draco discussing muggleborns, even Hermione, but she never asked what he said. Her asking for once wasn't something anyone was expecting.

"He called you a, well, y'know..." Ron said, "But the worst part was he said you were his person, y'know.." Then he asked a question she was hoping he wouldn't; "Why do you ask?"

"Usually, you don't care what he says," said Ginny. She'd removed her arm from her brother, and it how somehow ended up around Harry. Had the conversation not been so awkward, Hermione would have rolled her eyes, then mentally scolded herself for once again acting like a regular teenager. After all, everyone knew she was much smarter than that.

"Well, I just.." Hermione stuttered, "Just wanted to know wh-what people say about me is all. I don't want my reputation completely demolished, now do I?" Her cover seemed to work for a second until Luna decided to stop daydreaming and take a bigger part in the conversation.

"You've never cared before," Luna chimed, "It's never really mattered, has it? I mean, we don't exactly carry the highest reputations on the grounds. And Draco Malfoy isn't really considered 'people,' is he?" The sing-song in her voice was almost enough to float a person away to a land of dreams and fancy. Luna tugged on the white lace of her dark blue dress that lined her neck.

"Is there something you aren't telling us, Hermione?" Harry asked. His own arm was now on Ginny's waste. Again, Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes at the two, standing there in each other's arms right in front of Ron. Poor Ron had to do everything he could to keep from staring at the two to see where Harry's hands were.

"No," said Hermione a little bit too quickly. The four looked at her with suspitious looks, and, feeling too uncomfortable, she added, "I've got to go. I-I'm supposed to go to Professor Snape's office!" She eyed around hurriedly, trying to find the easiest exit.

"What for?" asked Ginny, "I can hardly believe you'd get a detention or something." She, Harry, and Ron laughed at the very idea. Luna didn't see what was so funny, but she giggled light-heartedly along with her peers anyway.

"Yes! I have detention!" Hermione replied. Blood was rising in her cheeks now, causing her to blush. Her lungs began to work in over-drive. Her palms became sweaty. Hermione was a terrible liar.

"What ever did you do?!" squeeled Luna in a shock that magnified Harry, Ron, and Ginny's. "Did you kill someone?" Ginny rolled her eyes at Luna's question.

"Tipped over a vial of this-or-that," Hermione said, laughing awkwardly, "Snape's getting harder on us every year, isn't he? I didn't do anything on purpose." She pretended to glance at a clock. "I'm late!" Without a further word, Hermione dashed at top speeds off to Professor Snape's office. She knew she had to actually be there, else her friends would find her somehow. They were good at that.

She was running at her fasted pace possible when she collided into something, or rather, someone. She gathered her mind to find Draco standing above her and she on the ground where she had fallen. He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. Hermione, red in the face, got up without a word or letting him say a single one himself and ran the rest of the way without disturbance. She pounded on the door loudly and at a face-pace. She continued knocking a brief second, even after he had opened the door.

"My apologies, Professor," said Hermione, staring down at the floor. She felt his gaze burning through the top of her hair, blazing through her skull and practically into her mind. It was then she realized it wasn't "practically". After all, Severus Snape was skilled in legilimency. Her thoughts flooded through his head like a river that's dam had burst. Then he stopped, taking a step back in confusion.

"Betrothal, hmm?" Snape smirked slightly, a little pleased with the failure on Lucius and Narcissa's behalf; Lucius had always done so much better than he. "Well, my, you're in an awful dilemia. And you're here because you didn't have the guts to tell Mr. Weasley the truth? An amazing representative of Gryffindor house you're becoming." His smirk spread as he mocked Gryffindors.

"How dare you!" Hermione half-shrieked, offended not only by Snape's words, but his actions. "Reading my mind like that! My thoughts are private!" She glared up at Snape, who meerly stared back with icey eyes that apparantly matched his heart.

"How dare I?" he asked plainly, "Well, Miss Granger, you run to me, me of all people, in such a condition no one would expect you to be capable of informing me of your reasons, so I was forced to use whatever method I so chose."

"You're a bad man," said Hermione disgustedly. At this moment, she hated Snape more than she had ever in her seven years of schooling. Blood rushed through her veins as she resisted the urge to just reach out and slap him across the face. An urge that no one, expect perhaps him, would have objected to.

"Just go," said Snape, flicking an arm in a shooing motion, "Tell your friends Headmaster Dumbledore would not let me keep you detained for an 'accident'." It was a decent act, and Hermione almost felt bad for her previously spoken disrespectful words.

"Thank you, Professor," she said pathetically, lowering her head, as if to apologize. She dashed to the Gryffindor Common Room where her friends now were, even Luna, just talking, as friends sometimes do. Her stomache backflipped, but her heart sank, when she glanced across Ron. The guilt she was feeling could turn a sane person mad and a mad person suicidal. The innocent, unknowning smile that distorted Ron's freckled cheeks with happiness was irresistable.

"Hey, Hermione," grinned Ron happily, "We were just talking about you and how far you and I've come since first year. Remember? We hated each other!" He chuckled lightly. Hermione laughed along awkwardly, then Luna, sensing her uncomfortableness, gave her a confused look, a concerned, friendly look. Realizing faking would get her no where, Hermione stopped laughing all together.

"Ronald, w-we need to talk," she choked out, "It's important." She went to him, took his hand delicately, helped him up, and the two walked off to an unused stairwell to talk. Ron practically strutted, feeling on top of the world. Hermione trudged as tears swelled up her eyes. She, unlike Ron, knew what was coming.

"We're here," Ron announced, "Now what? Are we really going to talk? Because if we weren't, Harry and Ginny won't object if we were just going to snog or something there, and Luna'd be too, well, too Luna, to notice anything..." Hermione shook her head sadly, letting her mane of hair do as it pleased. Ron, now concerned and scared, lost his smile.

"Ron, let me get this off of my chest first," said Hermione, biting her cheek a little to prevent tears, "This has nothing to do with you doing something wrong. You need to know that. Secondly, I'd much rather keep things the way they are, but..." She sighed, her breath shakey, filled with the pressure of tears, fighting to explode and run down her cheek.

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Ron asked helplessly, "I don't understand.. A-are you trying to break-up with me?" His voice showed his true emotion, true hurt. True confusion. He couldn't think of anything that could have caused this.

"No, Ron!... Well, sort of..." she stuttered, not sure what to say, "b-but not because... I don't _want_ to, Ron! I don't _want_ to!" Tears began to prevail in her inward battle as a few trickled down. Ron caught them affectionately with his finger.

"Then don't, Love," he said softly. She looked into his eyes deeply, and he pressed his lips against hers. Her knees felt weak, and all she wanted was to keep things exactly as they were right at that moment. He pressed harder, deepening the kiss until she pulled back and broke the contact. A wave of brown hair fell across the left side of Hermione's face as she backed away.

"I-I have to.." she sobbed as she lost all control of her tears and emotions, "M-my parents h-had me b-betrothed w-when I was a-a b-baby! I-I'm _engaged_, Ron! I-I wish I w-wasn't!" It took Ron a moment to process the information. When he could finally wrap his mind around it, he did not feel hurt by Hermione or angry at her as she had feared he would. All he felt was anger towards life itself for letting him fall in love with a wonderful girl only to snatch her from his grasps. In frustrating and sheer rage, he threw his arm at the flower arrangement on the window sill in the stairway, causing the glass vases to fall and shatter. He leaned on the sill, panting, calming down just a little as the hot air escaped out every breath. Hermione rested one small hand on Ron's shoulder. The air was tense as the only sounds were their breathing and distance footsteps from above and below the stairs.

**A/N: Sad, huh? Yep, I felt like crying when I read over it and I _wrote _it! Well, anyway, see that green and white button there? Click it and type something nice. Everytime you do a House elf gets its freedom! What would Hermione say if you didn't?**


	4. After Hours

She had taken the person she loved and broke his heart right in two, but that had been nearly a week ago, and the guilt began to subside as he seemed to be all right on the outside. However, Hermione still knew Ron was a mess on the inside, and why shouldn't he be? He had every right to be hurting.

It was late at night, perhaps midnight, Hermione wasn't sure of the time exactly. She wasn't sure why she was out of bed, either. Still, she was ultimately wandering the halls all the same. She slapped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming when she saw a flickering light and a swaying shadow. Scared that it could be a professor, she continued toward it anyway.

As she got closer, she found it to be her friend, Harry. He seemed to be looking for something hidden in the pictures on the wall because he was staring at them, scanning them all with his eyes intensely. Just a few weeks ago, Hermione would have asked what he was up to, but now she was not so sure. What if he was angry about her betrothal and her breaking of Ron's, his best friend, heart? _No, _she assured herself, _he's still your friend. Speak to him, stupid girl!_

"Harry," was all she managed. It was quiet, hardly even a whisper, but Harry's head snapped around all the same. His eyes scanned her quickly as the dark made it hard to recognize the figure. Aware of this, she took a step into the range of light from Harry's wand and waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry sighed. "It's a good thing that it's you. I was sure I was about to be in trouble." He laughed lightly, and Hermione tried to join him, but what came out was forced and awkward. "What's wrong with you?"

"M-me? Nothing, just a little bit tense," Hermione replied. Desperately not wanting to talk about it, she tried changing the subject. "How's your godfather doing these days?"

"Sirius? He's fine," Harry replied. "Wait a second… Hermione Granger, perfectly well-behaved witch I've ever known, out of bed after hours? What's gotten into you, Miss Granger?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione confessed, "I'm just… I don't know. I felt like walking." It was the truth, as strange as it was. Her eyes flickered with the light, reflecting it back at Harry brighter than it was shining.

"Oh," was all Harry could think to say. All was silent for a few minutes until Harry said, "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting rather strange, Hermione. I mean, I know about the whole Ron-and-betrothal incident, but you seem highly upset."

"I sort of am, Harry," Hermione admitted. "I love Ron, but I have to marry Draco Malfoy. Wouldn't you be upset if you wanted to marry Ginny but found out you had to marry Pansy Parkinson?"

"Ew, yes," Harry replied. "I see your point. Well, I'm really sorry about all this. Everyone is." He turned back to the wall and continued scanning it.

"What on Earth are you looking for, Harry?" asked Hermione. She, too, scanned the wall with her eyes, searching for something that just might pop out at her, whatever Harry was looking for.

"I'm just looking to see if any of the portraits have my cloak," Harry returned distractedly. "It's missing, and Ron said to check the portraits because if someone stole it, they might try being very cute and giving it to the portraits."

"Well, good luck with that," Hermione laughed and walked in the opposite direction from which she came. She wasn't ready to back to bed yet; her walkabout wasn't done yet.

Silently, oh, so silently, she stalked through the halls, every step seemingly an impossible mission. If she made a sound, she knew she would regret it, for another shadow and another flickering light were ahead, and this time, she knew it wasn't Harry. Careful not to even creak a floorboard as she walked, Hermione continued on towards the figure; she _had_ to know who it was. As she approached in silence, hidden by darkness, she discovered to whom the shadow belonged; her betrothed, Draco Malfoy. She could not control a gasp, and Draco snapped around.

"Who is it? Who's there?" Draco demanded, his eyes flickering through the surrounding darkness in search of his mystery companion. "I know you're there. I can hear you're breathing."

"It's only me," Hermione couldn't help saying. Still, she took a step forward to the edge of the darkness. Any forward movement and she would be seen.

"Me who?" asked Draco. "Who are you?" He pointed his wand frantically into the darkness until it jabbed next to Hermione's ear and illuminated her whole body. "Granger? What are you doing out of bed?"

"I was taking a walk," Hermione shrugged. "What are _you _doing, Draco Malfoy, out of bed yourself?" Her eyes confidentially scanned him, waiting for him to answer.

"I wasn't doing anything at all," he shot back, "and even if I was, it would be known of your business." The smirk he boasted was exactly that of his father.

"Pretty soon, everything you do will be my business," Hermione mumbled. Her eyes lowered to the ground, broken by this betrothal so very obviously.

Silence passed the minutes by until about twelve had come and gone. "If we're going to get married," Draco reasoned, "we should stop the childish games, and I know it." He looked at his feet like a guilty child.

"Yes, I think that would be in everyone's best interest," Hermione agreed. Draco held out his hand, and she shook it lightly. "So, it's a truce then?"

"I suppose it has to be, doesn't it?" replied Draco. After another minute, he asked, "So, how did Weasley take it?" He, shockingly, wasn't asking to be mean; he was asking because he wanted to know.

"Pretty hard," Hermione sighed. "He's not angry with me, though. He's just angry at life." Hermione was amazed at how human Draco was acting, and she thought, _Maybe he's a person, after all._

"Ah, I see," Draco stated. "Pansy took it sort of hard, too, and we've never even been dating. She started bawling all over the place. I almost felt bad for her." He noticed Hermione was staring off into the distance. "Grang-.. Hermione?"

"What?" she said, turning back to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I sort of zoned out there for a moment." He chuckled at her, and she blushed bright red.

"That's all right, Hermione," Draco smirked, but this smirk was almost more like a regular smile. Just seeing it made Hermione smile, too. "I suppose we're friends now somehow?"

"Yes. I have no idea how it happened, but yes," Hermione laughed. Draco laughed, too. The whole idea seemed so silly; two children who were completely opposites, who grew up hating each other, who were perfectly designed for hate, were now friends, and even destined to marry. Who ever would have thought it?

"Hermione, I think I should apologize for all of the times I've called you.. you know.. a mudblood," Draco said sincerely. His eyes wielded true guilt, and Hermione felt bad for ever being angry.

"It's fine now," Hermione replied, "It's all in the past. We've got a future to worry about now, huh? And I'm sorry for punching you in the face during third year."

"I'd nearly forgotten about that!" Draco chuckled. "That one stung for a while!" Hermione wished she had known this laughing, smiling Draco years ago. If only he had shown her this side to begin with.

"Hey, Draco?" Hermione said coyly, one finger nervously threading itself into her hair. Draco blinked at the sound of her voice, but then looked at her attentively.

"Yes, Hermione?" He asked, confused by the tone in which she said his name. Pansy Parkinson was the only one who had ever said his name like that before.

"Since we're going to be married," Hermione said, her cheeks glowing bright red, as red as a tomato, "would you kiss me? I want to see how it feels since we'll be together forever."

Draco smirked, ready for this challenge. "Of course," he said before a step towards her. He pushed his lips into hers. For a moment, they just stood there, nothing happening, but then, something changed.

Hermione deepened the kiss; she wanted to get lost in it. Draco, first awkward but then confident, strengthened his side of it, as well. Her arms wrapped around his neck and messed with his hair. Draco's own arms weaved around her waist and clung on like they would never let go.

That was exactly how they were when Professor Snape found them.

**A/N: Origionally, I didn't really like this story and had no idea why I was writing it. I was just going to make it three-four chapters long. But now I sort of like it (even though I don't really support Dramione) so, as this is the fourth chapter, I would formally like to state it's going to be about six. :) **


	5. Truthful Rumors

"I don't believe it!"

"Granger and Malfoy? What?"

"Who would have thought?"

"Way to go, Draco!"

"It's always the quiet ones, eh?"

Rumors. Rumors had spread fast, and, even though Hermione had to admit that they were true, it was still mind-boggling how quick it was before everyone in the entire school found out. Hermione also thought with some bitterness that it wasn't a single one of their business. It was between her and Draco.

Draco! Hermione fumed. She would have been so angry if she found out that Draco had told everyone. Every rumor has its source, and since the rumor was true, someone had definitely told. Who else even knew? Besides her and Draco, there was only Professor Snape, who had found and dragged them to the Headmaster's office, Professor Dumbledore himself, and her head-of-house Professor McGonagall who had been called to the scene to deliver her punishment. She could hardly see one of them leaking the information to the general public.

Now everywhere she went, when she walked into the room, conversation ceased and all eyes fell on her. It was so incredibly awkward to walk into a room and have the feeling that the people there had been talking about you, but Hermione had that over five hundred times at once. Tears flooded her eyes, and she had to turn and run back out of the room. If Draco had started this, Hermione never wanted to see his smirking little face again.

_I should have _known _not to trust a Malfoy! _Hermione mentally scolded herself as she sobbed her eyes out in the girl's bathroom. _I'm a laugh! I can never show my face again! _Then she heard a light knock on the stall door and a quiet "Hermione?" on the other side. After taking a second to compose herself, she unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hermione, are you okay?" It was Ginny. Once she saw it was someone she trusted on the other side of the door, Hermione let herself become emotional all over again, and she latched herself onto Ginny in a crying heap. "It's okay, Hermione," Ginny soothed. "I'm here for you." Ginny didn't even ask what was wrong; she just stood there as Hermione's support. Her friend needed her. The cause itself didn't matter.

Later that day, she passed Ron in the hallway. Ron looked positively annoyed, but for the most part, he hid his agitation deep within him. Still, when the two made accidental eye-contact, Hermione could do nothing from bursting into tears and running into the ladies' room again.

_~o0O0o~_

Draco was furious. Every boy in the school was patting him on the back. Every girl was sobbing. The only decent thing that had come out of someone leaking that he and Hermione had kissed was that Pansy Parkinson was too furious to speak to him, and therefore, life was good. Or at least it would have been good if everyone else wasn't getting on his nerves!

And that Hermione! How, Draco demanded of himself, could he have believed that she was different than any other little Mudblood girl out there? How could he let himself think that she would or could care about him? And, most importantly, how could she justify spreading this thing all over the school?

Draco was so enraged that he did something no respectable boy should ever have to do: write a letter of complaint to his mother. The reply that came was aggravated as he himself was, which only reaffirmed his angry passion. However, she hinted that perhaps it would be better if his father didn't know, a point that Draco whole-heartedly agreed with.

Draco was so mad he didn't bother consider other culprits. Professor Dumbledore would have no reason to do such a thing. Professor MgGonagall didn't hate him _that _much, plus she liked Hermione. Professor Snape and his father were acquainted, so if Snape knew what was good for him, he wouldn't have spread anything.

And then, a few days after the rumors spread, Draco bumped into Hermione in the hallway. Both angry and blaming the other, the confrontation could not go well. "How could you do that!" They cried in accidental unison. "Me? You did this!…Shut up!"

"Why did you have to tell everyone about the kiss?" Hermione demanded, breaking the unison. "I thought… Why couldn't you let it be just between us?" Tears were ready behind her veil of strength, but Hermione would not allow them to pass.

Draco momentarily stared at her in an overwhelming confusion. "I didn't tell anyone," he replied slowly. "Didn't… you?" Hermione shook her head. "Then who the hell did this?"

"I didn't," she said. Then she had a sudden flash of brilliance. "Wait, I spoke to Harry not long before the whole incident. He said is invisibility cloak -he has one of those, by the way- was missing. Maybe whoever took it was watching. M-maybe somebody saw…!"

"What?" Draco was severely angry now with whoever had stolen Harry's cloak, yet also sore with Harry for even having one. "How are we going to find out who spilled it then?"

"I can think of only one way," Hermione stated. " Find someone who's talking about it, ask them who they heard it from, and follow the line back. There has to be a starting point somewhere." Draco nodded, and the two set off to find whoever began the hurtful, truthful rumor.

**A/N: Yeah, it's a short one, but it accomplished its point. Who do you think started the rumor? Why? Review and tell me what you think!**


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